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Bike Ride | ||
| Ride on upon your trusty bike Across the ancient cobbled pike. Ascend the winding upward trail With lungs and legs that will not fail. You sniff the pines and new-mown grass And let the faster cyclists pass. Atop the hill you rest and glide So swiftly down the other side. The trees of burnished gold and red Are quickly gone because you sped Until you reached the pathway's end. It is an outing I commend. | ||
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